


New Year's Reunion

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, M/M, New Years, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: Inspired by Kian's quote on The Daily Goss this May: "I saw Mark before Christmas... Mark I bumped into in a nightclub and we ended up spending the night together."





	New Year's Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've been really slack this year. I've been so busy, and I've been trying to work on long fics in my spare time, none of which I seem to have finished. So here's a little nugget to round out 2018 (and celebrate the reunion! whoo!) and hopefully I'll have something in 2019.

They'd been circling each other all night.

Not a new thing. Still, champagne did tend to help things along. Kian closed his eyes when he felt breath on the back of his neck.

“Yes,” he muttered. A hand traced a smooth grope down his arse-cheek. Surreptitious between them. Not that anyone could see. The party was loud, a floor below, circling the pool. He'd come up here for a moment alone. The dark bedroom balcony of the penthouse he'd booked out.

He'd stay here the night. Couldn't speak for anyone else.

“What's your new years resolution?”

“Don't have one.” Up the other arse-cheek. Long, circular sweep of a palm that occasionally groped down his crack in between caressing him. “You?”

“Not a resolution as such.” Rough and low in his ear. He shivered. “Just want to start the year off right.”

“How you doing that?”

“I think you know.” They both checked their watches, laughed when they realised what they were doing.

“Ten minutes to countdown,” Kian pointed out. He undid his jeans. Left them pulled up. Up to Mark if he wanted to take advantage. “Shouldn't take much. I've been wanting it all night.” A soft hiss against his ear. “Fingered myself before the party,” he added. “Had the room to myself for a few hours.”

“Prepared?”

“Needed to get off.” He tilted his head to the side to allow for sharp nips that made his blood fizz. “It's been a few weeks and I...” He groaned. “I would've wrecked my jeans hours ago otherwise.” Firm hands raked down the front of his thighs. “Don't pretend you don't do the same.”

“Maybe.” Mark ground against him, huffed out a low breath. Drew back a little. “Think I've just about worn that picture out.”

“I'll send you another one.”

“Mm... not as good as the real thing. “ His jeans slipped down to his knees. Cold in the winter air, warm at the press of the man behind him. Nobody looked up. “Want to go inside?”

“Fireworks in nine minutes,” Kian pointed out.

“Wouldn't want to miss those.” Mark snickered against his ear. “Come here, then.” He sank back into the lounge chair beside the door. Kian pulled off his own jeans; settled on top of him. Everything felt quieter, suddenly. The muddled opaque glass around the balcony hiding them, muting the noise. The sky looked huge, black and full of stars.

Mark smiled at him.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Kian breathed out. “I erm.” He closed his eyes as a hand pulled up his length, slow tease. “I'd forgotten. Figured we were done, you know? After everything.” That last night before the Croke show. A ragged fuck, snogging the whole time. Trying to _feed_ on Mark. Falling asleep in solid arms and waking up in the morning sure it was the last time.

Then two weeks ago they'd run into each other. Not unsurprising, in their home town, in a nightclub they'd frequented since they'd technically been too young to get in. He'd been back there, in an instant. Unsure fumbling and the confusion that Mark was his friend and a boy but oh his blood had been _hot_. Hot again when Mark had smiled and handed him a drink and it had been like the old days. Until the people they'd each come with had jogged off and they were sat together in a dark corner, not asking the questions either of them had ever had the courage to voice.

“Still single?”

“Mostly.” He rocked a little in Mark's lap, trying to find the point of pressure against his perineum. Found it. “It's never quite right.” Another rock and Mark was thrusting up to meet him. “You?”

“Wasn't for a bit. Now I am.” Mark's tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Oh Kian.” His hands tightened. Eyelids fluttered as his lips parted, red and wet. “Ki.” Kian unzipped dark jeans. Groaned when Mark popped free.

“Seven minutes,” Kian pointed out helpfully. Mark croaked a laugh.

“Better hurry.” He licked his lips. Let go of Kian to squeeze himself. Beautiful. Barely giving under his grip, rigid shaft that twitched against his belly, leaking a drop of fluid. Kian watched. Transfixed. As Mark's chest hitched and his head tipped back. The squeeze became a slow stroke. “Oh fuck.” His hips jolted toward his grip.

“Can take another picture?” Kian joked.

“Better idea.” Mark purred. “Finger yourself for me. I want to see.” He nuzzled Kian's cheek when Kian bent to kiss him. Felt the chest against his force out aroused gasps when they ground together. Mark's knuckles brushed him as he caressed himself. “Show me how you do it.” They nipped at each other, escalated to a biting kiss that stung Kian's lips.

“You should know by now.”

“Out of practice.” Their noses rubbed together. “Need a refresher.” They were staring at each other now, catching kisses in between. Mark's eyes were dark, blinking slowly every time Kian rocked against his balls, caught in the denim. Kian could feel him. Soft bulge that thickened out into the shaft Mark was teasing between them. Didn't need to look. Not when that gaze was possessing him.

He shifted back. Threw a quick glance at the glass to make sure they were still hidden. The music was pounding a drumbeat under his feet, bare on the balcony tiles. Mark was stinging kisses to the corner of his mouth.

He reached down. Caressed himself, fingers drifting out to brush over Mark's hand as it moved. Felt a touch cling back for a moment with a pinky finger while the rest kept at their job. Mark was watching. Foreheads pressed together. Eyes down. Kian watched Mark. As his own finger dug beneath him and found the knot of muscle there.

Mark's eyes darkened. Tongue darted out.

“Filthy twat,” Kian teased.

“Is that what you call it?” Mark joked back. Kian cackled a laugh. Felt a free hand mould to the small of his back. Kissing again, messier this time as his finger circled again, then pressed, lips gone slack with concentration. He felt give. Whimpered and clung to Mark as he edged into himself.

Sharp intensity. Mark kissing him hard and tipping him until they broke for him to lay back, back along thick thighs that cradled him, elbow awkwardly braced on the downward tilt of the lounger so he could still look. At Mark. At the boy he'd loved half a lifetime and who was staring heavy-eyed as he twisted himself open.

Mark's hand was moving faster. Let go. He spat, and Kian thought he'd use it on himself but instead he was joining in, pressing slippery fingers to Kian's hole, helping him slick himself open.

“Marky,” Kian gasped. His hips jolted. Their fingers tangled together in a playful dance before he was free to dip back in, not wet enough but something at least. Bright spot of penetration that clenched into his stomach.

Mark hissed his name. Reached up to clutch a caress at Kian's stomach, up the length of his aching cock. Kian whined.

“My Kian,” Mark breathed. Kian's elbow lost grip. Sent him sprawling back, eyes tipped up to the sky. Didn't need to see when he could feel Mark around him. Under him. When toes clenched beneath his hair and he heard the rough warning of Mark's breath. Hitched in and shuddered out. Kian's thighs flopped out and he reached for himself, wanting Mark to see it. When his fingers connected and started a slow rhythm and he felt the ooze of escaping arousal, trickling down his shaft and into the sheath of Mark's rolling knuckles.

Below them, the music stopped. In the silence he heard the creak of the lounger, the liquid slap of them, of Mark's hand moving faster. Harsh breaths in the waiting air.

“ _Ten!”_

“Mark...” Kian gasped out a warning, hoped nobody could hear. “Oh, I...” Hands grabbed his forearms. He grabbed back. A secure monkey-grip that heaved him back up and into Mark's lap as the countdown started.

“Shh,” Mark hissed. Hiccuped a laugh. Kian giggled into his neck, hands dropping back to their job. No condoms, no lube. Not now, but this was enough. Mark's hand on him. His on Mark. On his knees and both of them fucking dry fingers shallow into him.

“ _Four!”_

“My Mark,” Kian whispered. Felt Mark hold back a yell, though the seize of him told the story. Hard kiss. Another. Too many of them with no break between, devouring between breaths.

Another seize. Mark clutched at him. Chin and elbow and thigh and heart. Kian sobbed. Bit Mark's ear and felt himself go.

“ _One!”_

“Happy new year,” Kian murmured, minutes later as they slumped on the lounger to watch the fireworks. Both sticky. Mark's jeans round his knees, Kian's a pile nearby on the floor. Their shirts were both ruined. Kian's arse hurt. He was cuddled up on his side against Mark's chest to avoid the discomfort.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot...” Mark sang quietly.

“What about old friends?”

“Who are you again?” Kian elbowed him. Hard. Mark slapped his side in reply. They both giggled. “Guess some things don't change,” he yawned.

“Shane and I were talking a few weeks ago,” Kian said. “About maybe getting the band back together.” He felt Mark stiffen. “It was just talk.”

“What do you want?”

“I don't know,” Kian admitted. “Maybe it's been long enough. I thought it hadn't but then...” Realising how much he'd missed Mark, in that moment at Equinox when they'd shouted in surprise and hugged each other. “I'd only want to do it if everyone else did.”

“What if they did?”

“Then I'd like that.” He looked up. Mark was giving him a fond smile. “We'd have to talk about this.” Mark tilted his head. “Come on. I know the first time around it was just getting off, but we're getting older now and...” He shrugged.

“Was it just getting off?”

“Not all the time.” He buried himself in Mark's shoulder again. Felt fingers drift through his air. “Sometimes it was just because I love you.” The touch didn't falter. Not for a moment. Kian smiled against a steady heartbeat. “Most of the time.”

“Most of the time it was because I love you too,” Mark murmured, and held him tighter. A burst of bright pink and orange bloomed above their heads. A blue and red one right behind, colours burning out into the same drifting smoke, taken by the wind until the stars were hidden by grey plumes.

Kian thought about going back to the party. Knew he would, once they were cleaned up and in fresh clothes. When his legs had stopped trembling.

For now he was good here, while Mark pressed tender kisses to his hair.

 

 


End file.
